Because Love is a Strange and Funny Thing
by MeowDamnation
Summary: Oh, the perils of a long distance relationship. [A/N: Another literary attempt for me.]


Summary: Oh, the perils of a long distance relationship. [A/N: Another literary attempt for me.]

**A/N: **All you need to know to understand this piece is that Hermione and Harry are together, London time is 5 hours ahead of Rhode Island's (that is a fact), and that Sirius made it.

The title is a line from a song by S Club 7 entitled "Never Had A Dream Come True." I didn't know what to call this piece and I had to put my playlist on shuffle to hopefully some across songs that somehow connect to the plot. So yeah. Heh heh

**Because Love is a Strange and Funny Thing**

**x.x.x.x.x**

You wonder why she just had to apply to some stup―

"_It's not just some university, Harry. It's Brown. One of the best. How could it be stupid!"_

It's stupid, of course. It's stupid because it will take her away from you.

**x.x.x.x.x**

The first few weeks are utterly painful.

She has a phone and you also have a phone because she gave you one ("for when you need me," she said), but you're unashamed of being abusive — you talk to her almost every midnight, and sometimes even immediately after you're done with a particularly exhausting Quidditch practice drill. She's always been very polite, answering "I'm a little bit busy right now, Harry. I'll call you back later, okay?" and calling you back after a few minutes, only to hear you muttering gibberish like _"I really hate it when Wood gets mad at us,"_ or _"I don't understand how these people could be such idiots," _and rambling on and on until you can't take it anymore and just tell her plain and simple, _"I miss you. When are you coming home?"_

She sighs, a sign that she's tired of giving you the usual _I thought we already talked about this _lecture, and tells you she wishes she were there and that another day apart is another day closer to being together again.

You say you want to magic your way over the Atlantic Ocean because you're Harry Potter and you killed Voldemort so crossing a bloody ocean wouldn't be a problem anyway, and even if you break a dozen international traveling rules you really don't care because you've broken rules before and you miss her terribly so, _oh, what the hell._

She laughs at the ridiculousness of your idea and you scowl and don't say anything for a while because she doesn't understand how serious you are about it. When she notices you're silent, she starts to talk you out of it because she can actually cross the ocean to see you now (she got to travel to study internationally, after all) but doesn't want to do it because it's not as easy as just taking a bag full of clothes and apparating.

"_When are you coming home?"_ you ask again. You ask it all the time and you always get the same tone of voice in her apology and answer: _"Soon, Harry."_

You wonder how long you'll be able to stand any of this.

**x.x.x.x.x**

She answers after the seventh ring.

"Harry?"

"Hermione," you start, but she interrupts you with concern.

"It's three in the morning. Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, I..." you trail off, not knowing what to say. You can't tell her that you just arrived at practice with the guys and they're all talking about tomorrow being a big, big day for you (because back when you kept a piece of Voldemort in you, you honestly never thought you'd live another year) and they're all saying _We haven't seen Hermione in a while. She'll be there tomorrow, won't she?_

You just had to excuse yourself because you want to call her and you want her there with you right at that moment and tomorrow and forever but you're a guy and guys don't usually ask those kinds of things because guys are supposed to be strong. You are supposed to be strong.

So you muster what little courage you have and ask, "are you coming? Tomorrow?"

She makes a sound that really, really sounds very much like a deep, frustrated sigh. "Harry..."

And you end the call because you don't think you can stand her saying no.

**x.x.x.x.x**

It's your birthday and everyone in the Burrow is in a celebratory mood. They throw you a party complete with balloons, confetti and other colorful stuff, give you a cake with the words _Happy 20__th__ birthday, Harry _written in blue icing, and tell you to make a wish.

You're a bit annoyed at all of it though; partly because it's highly unlikely for your wish to come true, and partly because the people closest to you are there and she isn't.

It must be very obvious how much fun your having because you see Ron giving you concerned glances every now and then and even Sirius pulls you to a corner and talks to you. "Are you alright?" he asks, hands gripping your shoulders tightly. "Hermione did call you, didn't she?"

Are you really that predictable?

"No," you answer. But the truth is, she's been trying to call you all day but you never answer because a call from her will never be enough.

**x.x.x.x.x**

It's 10 in the evening and you're still annoyed so when you think no one's looking, you slip into Ron's old room, dial her number and she answers immediately.

"Happy birthday, Harry," she greets you but she doesn't make an effort to sound cheerful. "Why didn't you answer my calls? Did you get your present?"

You don't know why but her question makes you feel like she thinks you're shallow, and you know she doesn't mean to make you feel that way but you're still mad and sad and you just can't stop the words from flowing out in your cold, biting tone, "whatever happened to the things you said are more important than books and cleverness?"

For a while she can't speak and you can't speak, because you know she understands why you're being particularly difficult, and you can hear her sniffing and taking rather deep breaths and she sounds like she's trying hard to not make you hear her cry.

"I'm sorry I can't be there," she whispers slowly and a sob escapes her, and you feel guilty about making her feel guilty. "I really am sorry, Harry."

**x.x.x.x.x**

Sometime between your wallowing and your eyes stinging and tasting something quite salty and unwelcome in your mouth, your world had faded to black.

Then you suddenly wake up to a pair of soft lips on yours, and you instantly respond because you're more than a hundred percent sure about whose lips they are, even without opening your eyes. Your hands travel down from her hair to go around her waist and you sit up on the bed until she's straddling your hips and her arms are around your neck and you're kissing the life out of each other.

She pulls away after a while so that only your foreheads are touching and says "I made it, didn't I? It isn't midnight yet. Happy birth—" but she never finishes because you're kissing her again, and if you have it your way, you don't think you'll ever stop.

**x.x.x.x.x**

Out of the blue you ask, "how come the moon is shaped like a toenail?"

And she rants on and on about the moon and its phases and something about the moon's dark side and you can't stop grinning despite not understanding what she's saying because what's important is that she's here and that doesn't have to do with the moon's toenail shape at all.

**x.x.x.x.x**

A scowl adorns your lips when you wake up the next morning without her beside you because that scares you a bit, just a little bit.

You go down the stairs and she's at the table talking to Ron and Ginny and Luna and Sirius and the Weasleys and you realize almost everybody from last night is still there. She sees you and gives you a smile and a shy kiss and tells you timidly, "do you want pancakes? I cooked some for you."

That scares you a bit too, just a little bit, because although she's good at everything, she's never been good at cooking.

She guides you to sit down on a chair beside hers and one of your hands holds one of hers and you both try to eat single-handed (you catch a glimpse of Ron rolling his eyes at your entwined hands). You conclude that her pancakes are edible, and you have to admit, they're even tasteful, but they could never beat your pancakes, of course. And when Sirius asks when she's going back to _that _university you immediately answer for her, _"tomorrow."_

It wasn't a question so nobody argues with you.

**x.x.x.x.x**

You spend the afternoon ice skating and you're sure it's gonna be all over the papers tomorrow, _Harry Potter and Hermione Granger skating together blah blah blah, _but you don't mind because it just makes you happy that the whole time you're on ice you are holding hands and looking at each other and laughing giddily and just generally happy.

You spend the evening watching a movie in a theater and when she cries at the end you hold her tighter and just whisper _it's okay_ even though you can't understand why she's crying because the movie ended with a happy ending.

**x.x.x.x.x**

It's that time of the night when your mother, if she were alive, would've told you to go to sleep because if you won't, you'll be grumpy tomorrow. But she's there and she's Hermione so she's the one who tells you, "go to sleep, Harry."

"I can't," you say stubbornly. "What if I wake up and you're not there?"

She scrunches her nose before bunching the front of your shirt in her fists and cuddling closer to you and declaring, "I'm not going anywhere."

**x.x.x.x.x**

But she's going, apparently. She has to.

She's leaving in the afternoon so find yourselves in the Burrow's terrace after lunch, looking at acres and acres of land and grass reaching up to the horizon. Maybe it's just you but you get the feeling that this is one of those moments when she's going to talk and you can't interrupt because she's Hermione and you have to listen.

"You'll be okay, Harry." She's said that once before, or maybe twice, and she always makes it sound like it's going to happen because it's what she said and she's always right. "We've had months, _years, _fighting Voldemort. We can get through anything." She reaches out to grab your hand and you acknowledge her with a noncommittal _mhmmm_.

"It's going to be difficult, but it's how it's supposed to be. Love is difficult." She looks at you and you marvel at how wonderful she truly is and how she has her way with words that you never thought you could formulate but perfectly define how you feel inside. "But I wouldn't have it any other way. It'll always be difficult, but it's worth it. You're worth it, Harry."

And you let her go even though it's difficult because love's supposed to be like that (she said it so herself) and she's worth it, she's always been worth it, so yeah.

**x.x.x.x.x**

There was a time when you had your way in everything. Things would work according to you, what you wanted, what you needed. Sometimes you wish you could go back to that time, when it was all so easy, when magic can let you do anything. But you can't go back because, well, you're in love with her, and you think maybe that's what that strong a love does to you.

So you go back to calling her and missing her and needing her, and hope that someday, _someday, _there will be a time when doing these things won't be difficult anymore because you've got her and she's got you and there are no boundaries, no space between, no nothing to keep you apart.

Someday. You're willing to wait.


End file.
